


Present Tense

by sleepfight



Category: GreedFall (Video Game)
Genre: Coin Guard Spoilers, Concussed Vasco Is Bad At Flirting, Gen, Guilt, Head Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Kurt's Biggest Muscle Is His Heart, M/M, Pre-Poly, relationships mostly implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 15:41:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21139106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepfight/pseuds/sleepfight
Summary: In another life, if things were different, Kurt could have followed his orders and slaughtered the two people he’s dedicated most of his career to protecting. He could have betrayed his ideals and regrouped with his men to follow through with their plan to raze the city until their demands were met. He could have ruined everything.But in this life, he can cradle Vasco’s head in his palm and wash the blood from his neck while De Sardet flies to warn the governors before it’s too late.





	Present Tense

In another life, if things were different, Kurt could have followed his orders and slaughtered the two people he’s dedicated most of his career to protecting. He could have betrayed his ideals and regrouped with his men to follow through with their plan to raze the city until their demands were met. He could have ruined everything.

But in this life, he can cradle Vasco’s head in his palm and wash the blood from his neck while guilt burns in his gut and De Sardet flies to warn the governors before it’s too late. He can ignore the atrocious weight of De Courcillon’s suspicious, dismayed stare because Vasco is struggling to stay focused and Kurt needs to keep him awake until they get back. He can hope that Siora will have a supply of healing remedies to tide him over until the worst of the fighting has passed. 

The hand holding Vasco’s head up is slick and warm and red. Kurt swallows and reminds himself that head wounds bleed fiercer than others and that it probably looks worse than it is-- probably. _Probably_ because Kurt saw how hard the rifle stock hit him. _Probably_ because he heard the dull, shocked sound Vasco made when he crumpled to the marble floor. _Probably_ because Constantin has just set a candle down on the table beside them and Vasco’s pupils are still huge and vacuous in the bright circle of light, lazily crossing as he starts to nod off again.

“Stay with me, sailor,” Kurt murmurs and wipes away blood from between the lines of black-blue tattoos, slapping Vasco’s cheek gently. That just makes Vasco’s head lul on his shoulders, corpse-like, and Kurt has to fight back the bile that rises in his throat at the thought that he might just be making things worse. 

It had been so easy in the heat of the moment to fall into De Sardet’s orders, as he always has; to let himself be commanded to Vasco’s side while Percy and the others disappeared to secure the palace and deliver Lady Morange to safety. Protect Constantin and help Vasco, those were his orders and he’d taken them seriously, pulling Vasco from the floor and shouldering his limp body to the cellar with Constantin. In the chaos of a thousand moving parts, orders brought the clarity needed to make his legs work again.

But now, sat on the stone floor with Vasco laid out beside him, tender head resting in his palm, Kurt feels wholly inadequate to handle the situation. His fingers feel too big, his body too cumbersome, and he’s afraid to touch Vasco when he begins to shiver. Shock setting in, no doubt.

Despite the wealth of knowledge that comes with a lifetime of service to the Guard, he is seized by a dreadful apprehension. It has become increasingly clear in recent weeks that Vasco means something to De Sardet which means that despite it all, he is starting to mean something to Kurt as well and the prospect of hurting Vasco by mistake paralyzes him worse than any magic or poison ever could.

Because Kurt has never had the sensibilities for handling delicate things and Vasco feels like glass in his hands. 

He had needed to remove Vasco’s coat and armor in order to pack the wound and Kurt pulls himself away to retrieve it. Right where he left in, in a heap near the door by the puddle of vomit where Vasco first came to, disoriented and sick. When he returns, Vasco’s breath is shallow and his eyes have drifted shut. 

A shudder rolls down the length of Vasco's body which emboldens Kurt to slip an arm around him. Kurt braces his back and slowly--carefully--pulls Vasco onto his lap and folds them together so that Vasco can rest his cheek in the crook of Kurt’s neck. He drapes the coat over them both and envelopes Vasco’s smaller form with his own, one hand keeping a bloodied rag over his injury and the other holding his waist. He holds him still. Warmth builds between them and Kurt hopes it will be enough. 

He hopes that any of this will be enough; that he’s given De Sardet enough of a head start to prevent a bloodbath. There will be deaths regardless, both civilian and soldier alike, but if Percy cannot get word to the governors in time, the casualties will be uncountable. 

Had he not been such a coward, Kurt might have moved on his plan sooner. Might have prevented that look of horrible betrayal when De Sardet thought he was involved. Might have prevented a lot of the gunfire echoing from the streets above. Might have prevented the bludgeoning of people Kurt has called friend for the last year.

He gets a sick, sucking sensation in his stomach when he imagines what would have happened if he had hesitated even a moment longer. He’s seen men die by firing squad before and to even imagine Constantin or De Sardet meeting such a violent end fills him with despair so intense and revolting it makes his breath hitch.

A cold, damp hand creeps along Kurt's clavicle and it breaks him out of his morbid ruminations when fingers start to twist into the collar of his undershirt.

Vasco stares blearily up at him, a flicker of coherency back in his dazed expression. Kurt is almost boneless in relief. He slumps over Vasco, holding him that much closer in a subconscious reach for the first sign that hope may not be lost yet. 

“Back with us, Captain?” Kurt asks and lightly touches the crown of Vasco’s head because it feels like the right thing to do. His hair is stuck together in clumps of drying blood but his eyes flutter in something that looks a bit like pleasure when Kurt runs the tips of his fingers over his temple so he does it again, tentative and slow.

Vasco swallows. His mouth works like he isn’t quite sure how to form the words he wants to say and by the dizzy way his eyes keep rolling back, Kurt is quite sure he is hanging onto his faculties by a thread. 

“Not--- not a captain anymore,” Vasco slurs, voice hoarse and thick, almost lost in the dim quiet of the dark cellar. “No ship.”

His grip on Kurt’s collar tightens. Even in this disturbed state, weak as a kitten with his head leaking red all over them both, Vasco still manages to yank Kurt down until he has nowhere else to look but into the unfocused fog of Vasco’s golden eyes.

“What about-- what about you, Kurt?” He murmurs, sounding grim. “You still a captain?”

_ Are you still one of them? _Is the unspoken question he really means to ask and Kurt guiltily appreciates that blood loss and trauma have blunted the edges of Vasco’s sharp tongue because he doesn’t actually know how to answer that. No, he is not holding them hostage while his comrades burn down the city and no, Vasco is not in any danger from him. But the Guard has been Kurt’s entire life up until now; they raised and reared him and despite this collapse into greed and power, Kurt is not sure he has it in him to abandon his position. He _ should _ leave. Between this and the despicable situation with Reiner, he should feel no fondness for the Coin Guard or anything they have ever stood for.

And yet.

They are his family. Perhaps the only one he has ever had.

He is saved from voicing that thought by another bout of deep, tense shaking and he shifts his grip around Vasco’s torso so that he can cradle him closer, doing his best to keep the worst of the tremors at bay. Though Vasco is not exactly a slight man, tall by Naut standards, he is still a good deal smaller and it’s easy for Kurt to pull up his knees until Vasco is completely engulfed by the embrace, fitting against Kurt’s body. Despite his best effort, the movement jostles Vasco and his pained moan makes Kurt freeze.

But Vasco surprises him by laughing, a slightly delirious sound that drips down the bare skin of Kurt’s neck and sends a rush of gooseflesh along his spine. 

“Glad you stayed,” Vasco croaks. The corner of his mouth quirks up in a half-grin that almost hides the worrisome distance in his expression and the way his smile pulls just a little too wide to be healthy. He feels weightless and cold nestled in the bend of Kurt’s elbow but his palm bruises like cannon-fire when he drops it to cover Kurt’s hand where it rests motionless on Vasco’s hip.

Kurt swallows around a sudden dryness in his throat and tries not to think about how long it’s been since he has been allowed to touch or be touched with any amount of tenderness; tries to ignore the small circles Vasco's thumb is rubbing into his wrist or how beneath the metallic tang of blood, his hair smells like barrack soap and gunpowder. He doesn’t know what Vasco is to him yet, if he is anything at all, but it is comforting to have another body pressed to his own, damned be the circumstances that put it there.

“Is that so?” He asks. He tries to keep his tone light but it’s difficult to stem the flow of miserable doubt from his voice and he thinks Vasco might hear it by the way he burrows deeper into the hold Kurt has on him, injury making him a little more transparent than usual as well. “What’s the matter, sailor, worried you might actually miss us landlubbers?” 

Vasco snorts softly. What little energy he has managed to muster is beginning to flag. “More like… miss your-- miss your arms in that training shirt. The red one.” His voice trails off into a quiet chuckle as his body sags, long lashes fluttering against his cheek when his eyes close. “Big arms,” he sighs.

Kurt does not have time to feel panic (among other, newer things) when Vasco goes still and silent because there is a clattering of hurried footsteps coming down the cellar stairs followed by a disheveled looking De Sardet bursting through the door. Percy still has his pistol in one hand and there is blood on his face but Kurt suspects it is not his.

“It’s over,” Percy says in a rush as he drops to his knees in front of Kurt and lays a hand on Vasco’s shoulder, his expression pinched and fearful. “The city has been secured and messengers are on their way to Hikmet and San Matheus, the only thing we can do now is wait for word of their safety.”

Relief washes through Kurt like a river in the drought of summer. He wasn’t too late. His hesitation has not brought them all to ruin and once again, De Sardet has managed to salvage the broken pieces of this fragile coalition despite so many outside attempts to destroy it.

When Siora crouches down beside them, she has a belt of potions on her hip and she reaches to pull away Vasco’s coat so that she may better examine his injury. She prods the ragged wound gently and frowns, concerned, though she makes no attempt to remove him from Kurt’s arms.

“How is he?” Percy asks. He sounds young again, the way he used to when he would fail a lesson and ask Kurt if he was mad at him for it, and it makes Kurt’s heart squirm. 

“Unconscious,” Siora answers for him but she doesn’t sound that worried so Kurt tries to focus on her steady voice rather than the lingering fear that his actions could yet cost them Vasco’s life. Siora pulls the bloody rag out of Kurt’s clenched fist and replaces it with a clean bandage packed with herbal poultice before she guides him back into holding it against Vasco’s head, her reassuring hand over his for just a moment. “Hold this to the wound until the bleeding stops. The injury is not fatal but he will need treatment. Stay with him while I make preparations to move him upstairs.” 

She leaves them then to collect Constantin and the others, giving directions to those able to take them while De Sardet stays collapsed on the floor, exhaustion coloring every inch of his face. Keeping a hand on Vasco’s arm, Percy slumps inward and unexpectedly lays his head on Kurt’s shoulder, just beside Vasco’s, and breathes out long and slow.

“Thank you for looking after him,” he says. “I was so terrified when they hit him and I just--” Percy grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut, free hand clutching Kurt’s arm tightly. “We would not have made it through this night without you, Kurt. I will never be able to repay you for this.”

_ This _ meaning his desertion or _ this _meaning Vasco, Kurt isn’t sure but it settles him to hear it nonetheless. He glances down at the two men he is supporting and spends a long moment just watching as Percy strokes the back of his fingers down Vasco’s chalk-white cheek, a silent signal that he is present and there with him, even as he sleeps. It's sweet, a practiced gesture that should not include him but Kurt can’t resist holding on a little tighter anyway. De Sardet doesn’t speak but seems to notice the slight shift in their position because he adjusts himself so that he can press the warm length of his torso against Kurt's side, sliding an arm around his back so that he can hold onto Kurt too. 

He knows not where this path leads but for now, seated within a tangle of warmth in the stale aftermath of panic, Kurt accepts that there is nowhere else he wants to be. 

“I could not leave you like this,” he says finally and ducks his flushed face into the nest of Vasco’s tawny hair. “I-- you have always done right by me, Greenblood, as well as your cousin and your…” he blinks, unsure still of Percy’s relationship with Vasco. “And your Naut,” he finishes a bit helplessly.

He turns his head so that he can look down at Percy who is observing him, gaze thoughtful, a cheek pressed to Kurt's shoulder even now. “I know I am in no position to ask for favors after what has transpired tonight but I would remain here, by your side, if you’ll allow it.”

_ If I have not already destroyed your faith in me. _

“Kurt,” Percy breathes. His brown eyes look endless and open in the glow of candle light, voice painfully soft as he finds Kurt’s name. “Of course. Dismissing you was not an option I even considered. There is no life in which I could bear to lose you too.”

In another life, there might not have been a choice. In another life, Kurt’s might have forced them into a battle where the only outcome was death for one or the other.

But in this life, Percy holds Kurt’s hand in his and presses a shaky kiss into his open palm; a question, an invitation, a form of gratitude that he does not understand just yet. In this life, the governors of Hikmet and San Matheus go to sleep with their heads still attached to their shoulders. In this life, Siora mends Vasco's wound with a thin line of black stitches so that he can be stabilized and healed properly in the morning. In this life, Kurt feels the stirring of _ want _in his heart and for once, does not run from it.

In this life, Kurt allows himself to stay.

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd, any mistakes are my own and I will do my best to correct anything I find after posting.
> 
> So basically, I was reviewing some of the clips I took during my play-through and noticed that during the attempted coup, one of the Coin Guard soldiers [just fuckin cold-clocks Vasco](https://sleepfight.tumblr.com/post/188507774039/one-of-the-coin-guard-soldiers-just-straight-up) before he can react to anything. I actually got this scene even with a loyal Kurt (probably a bug?) so it got me all up in my feelings about Kurt trying to self-soothe his guilt by taking care of Vasco while DS goes to stop Torsten.
> 
> Also I just really liked the idea of a heavily concussed Vasco trying to make a pass at Kurt and his big beefy biceps lmao
> 
> For more feral Greedfall shitposting, connect with me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/sleepfights) or [tumblr!](https://sleepfight.tumblr.com)


End file.
